Making the Grade
by trixiecullen1176
Summary: Bella is a full time career woman, part time MBA student.  Her motto is "Failure is not an option".  But what happens when she is failing her Finance class with obnoxious Professor Cullen?  Will Bella admit that she needs him, maybe for more than Finance?
1. Chapter 1

Making the Grade

Bella is a full time career woman, part time MBA student, and the man in her life is her dog Sampson. Her motto is that "Failure is not an option". But what happens when she is failing her Finance class with obnoxious Professor Cullen? Will Bella admit that she needs him, not only for Finance but other parts of her life as well?

Chapter 1:

BPOV

I feel the sweat pooling on my back as I drive to class after work. Even though it's September, we're having a bit of a heat wave across the northeastern US, and downtown Pittsburgh is sweltering as I drive across town. I flip through the radio stations to see if I can find out the source of the traffic that I've been sitting in for the past thirty minutes.

"An accident on the Parkway East outbound has traffic backed up for miles. Try to find an alternate route of the city if you can." Awesome. If only I heard that public service announcement ten minutes ago, I might not be sitting here in back-to-back traffic now. It's 5:25, more than a half hour until class starts. Under normal circumstances I would be about five minutes away, but given the accident I may be cutting it close.

I turn up the music and try to think happy thoughts since there is nothing that I can do but sit here. I find some Smokey Robinson and start belting out the chorus. Nothing like a little Motown to ease the stress of a traffic jam. I check my Blackberry to see if I'd missed anything since I had left work for class. Ooh, a meeting request with my international team at 10 pm. How sweet of them to schedule the meeting after class since I'm sure that there's nothing I'd rather be doing other than joining a conference calls.

But the truth of the matter is, I encourage this type of behavior. I live and breathe and thrive on this shit. I love my work. If I were a guy everyone would just smile and nod, but since I am a woman something must be missing from my life to be so career oriented.

But what's wrong with being focused on my career? I'm only 27, far too young to be tied down and married in my opinion. And I have the most amazing man in my life. Sure, he's a 100 lb. chocolate Labrador Retriever, but he's always happy to see me and doesn't mind that I take conference calls late into the night. He also doesn't mind that I am going to class a few nights a week to complete my MBA. He knows that it's the right thing for me to be doing right now.

My inner ramblings remind me that it's 5:45 and I am still inching through traffic. Tonight is my first night of Finance for the semester. We have a visiting professor for this semester and I don't know anything about him or her. I am hoping that I don't make a bad impression coming to class late since it'll be a damn miracle at this point for me to arrive on time.

At 5:56 I am circling the parking lot praying to the MBA gods that a parking space near my building will be open. No such luck. I park about three blocks away and do my best to jog/walk to the building.

At 6:05 I am approaching the door to my classroom. Not too bad considering the conditions I've faced to get here. Since it's the first night of class I'm sure we're still going through preliminaries. I will just sneak in the side door and look for a seat in the back.

"Excuse me, I know that it might be a bit confusing getting used to the schedule and all, but class starts at 6:00 on the dot. Maybe you can introduce yourself, Miss…?"

"Swan. Bella Swan. And I know that I'm late, but there was a traffic jam on the Parkway due to an accident…" I try to explain. But I am cut off before I can finish my sentence.

"Save the excuses, Miss Swan. In the future I expect you will prepare for such circumstances to ensure that you are here on time and not wasting the time of myself and your fellow classmates."

Who the fuck IS this guy? I mean, I don't make it a habit to be late to class, but our professors usually understand that we're all coming to class straight from work and there are times when unforeseen circumstances warrant a late arrival. I look up to get a good look at this rude bastard.

Well, Professor Haughty is actually Professor HOTTIE as well. He's tall and lean with this shock of coppery, unruly hair sticking up in all directions. He's wearing a button down Polo shirt and you can see just a hint of hair sprinkling his chest. But his most striking feature are the piercing green eyes that are now focused on me in what appears to be disgust. I quickly take a seat in the back of the classroom.

"Well, after that interruption, let me introduce myself. I am Professor E.A. Cullen, and I am visiting from Stanford for this semester. Welcome to Introduction To Finance. It is my understanding that this class will be a pre-requisite to all of your future Finance courses, so your success in this course and your grasp of the materials will be critical to your success here. I think that you will find that if you can follow my simple rules, we will get along quite well."

Did he just throw another dirty look my way? Wow. So I was late buddy, I have to think that worse things have happened in your career. I can tell already this is going to be a long semester.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

BPOV

Well, it's pretty clear that I'm not going to get any leeway in Finance class because Professor Hottie has made his disgust with my tardiness abundantly clear. Three sarcastic comments, two eye rolls, and keeping the entire class five minutes late to "make up for the lost time" was the final icing on the cake. I mean, seriously, has this guy never taught an MBA evening class before? Does he not understand that unlike his full time students, we all have careers that we attend to during the day? I walk out of the class in a huff when I hear my name called out.

"Miss Swan? Are you interested in getting a copy of the Syllabus, or will you be dropping this class after tonight?"

"Actually, I planned to get the syllabus online, you know, save a tree or something," I tried to give him a little smirk to let him know I wasn't intimidated by him.

"Well, Miss Swan, you would know if you had logged into the course site that the syllabus is the only document NOT available online. I have to give you some reason to show up for my class, even if it was a late showing," he glares down at me. I try to look into his eyes to see if there is any hint of humor in them. Nope. Not even a slight glimmer. I figure that if I am going to survive the next fourteen weeks I had better make amends now.

"Look, Professor Cullen, I apologize for showing up late. I don't make a habit out of it, and if I have to leave work 90 minutes early next time to avoid traffic jams, I will." I look at him sincerely hoping that he will move on and quit punishing me for my five minute lateness.

"I accept your apology Miss Swan. You must understand that I have to set a firm example, especially for my younger students, that lateness is not an acceptable behavior in the classroom or the boardroom. I am sure that a woman with your experience can appreciate that."

Whoa…did he just tell me I'm old? I mean, I get it, I am not a 22 year old coed who just graduated from school and decided to hop into an MBA program, but I did that by design. I wanted to have some business experience before I jumped into a program. Since when did 27 become ancient? Just as I am about to come back to him with a sarcastic remark, I hear my phone beep. Shit! I completely forgot about the conference call I had accepted and it's now 10:10.

"Excuse me, Dr. Cullen, but I need to take this call. My team is looking for my profuse _experience_ on this conference meeting. Good day." I storm out of the room, grabbing the syllabus from his hands and hoping that I got my message across.

As I answer the phone I look behind me and see him standing there, slightly dumbfounded, as though he just realized his asshole remark from a few minutes ago. I guess there's something to be said for those in the academic world having no common sense.

Thirty minutes later I am finishing my call as I walk into my townhome. Sampson wakes up from a deep sleep and runs to meet me at the door. I happily greet him and give him a snack before we both curl up in bed.

While I am sitting there in silence, listening to Sampson snore, I replay the events of class today. I am used to your stereotypical arrogant professor, but Professor Hottie really seemed to have it out for me. I might have to Google him tomorrow to see where he came from and what his deal is. Finance is not one of my strong points and with his obvious disgust with me; I will need to be on my toes all semester. I thought about this as I slowly drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 3

BPOV

My alarm starts blaring at 5:00 AM when I turn my alarm off. Don't get me wrong, I am getting up, but I prefer having Sampson give me his version of a doggie snooze alarm. He burrows his head in close to me and shakes his collar so I know that he's now awake and ready for a walk. I give myself a nice long stretch and get my clothes out for a brisk morning walk with Sampson.

I fire up my iPod and put The Black Keys on to ease me into the day. Today I have lunch plans with my best friend Alice. She and I have known each other since we got out of college, and we work for the same company in different departments. She is also getting her MBA at Pitt, another major university in town, and so we meet weekly to catch up on life and commiserate about school. I am trying to decide where we should go when Sampson yanks me ahead as he tries to run after a bunny, effectively ending my train of thought.

"Sampson! Leave that bunny alone!" I whisper-yell at him. He stops in his tracks and looks back at me sheepishly if that is possible for a dog. We make it back to the house and eat our breakfast before I get ready for work. I decide to check my e-mail and see that there is a message directed to my entire Finance class.

TO: Course 85-918 Finance Students

FROM:

SUBJECT: First Assignment Due in Class 2

_Class,_

_For those of you who were not too busy with conference meetings and such, you will see in the syllabus that your first assignment is due at the beginning of our next class at 6 PM sharp. Failure to turn in the assignment by this time will result in an automatic failure. Please note that this assignment is 15% of your grade._

_Regards,_

_E.A.C._

Are you kidding me? Maybe I am being sensitive, but I swear this jackass professor is calling me out, AGAIN, to the rest of the students by implying that "someone" may be too busy taking conference calls to read the syllabus. And so what if it's true? I was planning to review the course load tonight after work. I need to show this message to Alice to see what she thinks.

At lunch Alice and I go to our favorite Greek place and order the salads and hummus. I tell her about the course of events over the past day and show her the e-mail from the professor. She chews her salad thoughtfully while I continue to blabber on about how I've been singled out by Professor Hottie.

"Wait, what is his name?" Alice asks when I slip and call him by my nickname. "Professor Hottie?"

"Well, his name is actually Cullen, E.A. Cullen, but I nicknamed him Professor Hottie because he's, well, um," I stammer as I can feel the heat flushing my cheeks.

"Hot?" Alice laughs as she completes my sentence for me. "A HOT visiting Professor that has singled you out? Remind me what the problem is again?"

"Just because he's hot Alice doesn't give him the right to embarrass and ridicule me in front of the class, and then tell me I'm old after class. And besides, he's a Professor. I'm certainly not one of those girls that flirt with her teacher to gain favor in class."

"Well, all I am saying is that I can think of worse things that could happen, Bella. But if you really want to blend in with the rest of the class, get there early next week, keep your head down, and I am sure that all will be forgotten from this week. Where did you say he was from?"

"He told us that he came from Stanford." I replied, which reminded me that I needed to do a little Google searching after lunch today to see what I could find out about Professor Hottie, like why he would be visiting in Pittsburgh when he could be in California.

After Alice and I say goodbye, I head back into my desk and open up a search browser, typing in "Cullen" and "Stanford" to see what I can find. The first entry that comes up is a news headline stating, "Professor E.A. Cullen awarded Distinguished Teaching Award by Students at Stanford." Interesting…so he was a beloved professor at Stanford. Why leave a school where you're clearly adored by your students and come to the cold mid-Atlantic? I scan through the rest of the results and see nothing out of the ordinary, so I decide I'll have to see if I can find anything out in the next class session that would indicate why he made the trip here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 4

EPOV

Office hours are quite possibly the worst part of my day. For every ten students that come into my office, only one usually has the appropriate intentions in mind and is truly seeking academic advice. The other nine are either miserable brown-nosers trying to ingratiate me with their presence, or girls who harbor a sexual fantasy that includes a tryst with their professor in his office. If those girls only knew who I really was, they would know they were wasting their time. I am used to having teaching assistants that can field questions but my rapid transfer to Carnegie Mellon has made that impossible for this semester.

I look out my window and see the leaves changing on the trees, a sight that I would not see in California. It reminds me of my childhood in Chicago as a boy. This time of year would always signify football season. Emmett, my older brother, was the fullback on our high school team, while I was in the band playing the trombone. Even though I was nerdy and bookish, a lot of Emmett's friends took me under their wing and tried to help me out with the girls at school. I remember in my sophomore year Emmett took me to my first "keg party" after one of the football games, and I got my first kiss (and make out session) with Tanya Denali, the head junior varsity cheerleader. I think that was also the first time I realized that something must be wrong with me, although at that point I couldn't verbalize what it was.

Numbers and music were always my escape, and still are to a great extent. People always felt that these practices were contradictory to each other, being a math whiz and a musician, but I think they are perfectly complementary. Both mathematics and music are exact sciences. There is a right answer and a wrong answer, and the more you practice, the better you become. Discipline is critical as well. You can have the right answer, but if given at the wrong time it can disrupt the entire sequence of events.

This need for discipline is why at 6:05 during my first course at CMU I nearly lost my temper with the tall brunette that had the audacity to come in late to my class. I had spent the entire weekend preparing for this class, knowing that it would be my only opportunity to teach masters students this semester. I really needed to show that I would be a worthy member of the faculty here. And this girl saunters into class thinking she can just come in late and sit in the back and disrupt my entire plans. Incorrect and unacceptable!

I know the type, you see. Isabella Swan is quite attractive in an unsuspecting sort of way, and whether she realizes it or not, people cater to her and allow her to be the exception to their rules. I can imagine that she's had many a professor who has accepted her tardiness, given her the benefit of the doubt, and believed her excuses in the past. Unfortunately for her, I will make sure she learns above any financial concepts in this semester that she has to follow the rules like everyone else. I will seek out opportunities to point out her failure to follow them if she does not. I realize I might be the only man for the job at this point because I am impervious to her charms. You see, although I clinically can look at her and realize her beauty, I also know an incontrovertible fact about myself.

Although I am completely healthy, I have a rare case of male impotency. I cannot maintain an erection with a woman long enough to complete the act of ejaculation, and believe me, it's not from a lack of trying in a variety of ways. My doctors believe that it is psychological rather than physical, but at 32, I have resigned myself that this is how it will be for me and I simply must make the best of it. I have had somewhat fulfilling relationships with women, but in the end it's always the same. They think that they can change me, can make me whole again, and when they realize that it will never be, they move on. At Stanford I made the mistake of getting involved with one of my colleagues in another department. After eighteen months Jessica realized that I would never be able to satisfy her in the way she deserved and we ended our relationship. Unfortunately she decided to share it with the rest of our colleagues and I became the butt of many jokes for male and female colleagues alike. Women pitied me or thought that they could change me. Men either tried to offer me advice or simply questioned my sexuality, since "a real man" could do the deed. It was simply ludicrous that a group of intelligent educators could be so misinformed.

So that is the reason why I left Stanford and headed as far away as I could geographically. I needed a fresh start where no one knew me or cared about my past. I would isolate myself and enjoy my work, maybe even write a book in my spare time.

But Isabella Swan, or any student for that matter, would not embarrass me by disregarding my rules. They would all follow my order and in return I would make Finance a great course for them.

When she stomped off with the syllabus, I could tell that I had flustered her. Did she believe I was insinuating she was old? How ridiculous – surely she couldn't believe I was insinuating such a thing. But again, I am sure that a woman like Isabella Swan is used to men being coy and flirtatious. To state the obvious that she isn't the greenest student in the class should be viewed as a compliment.

"Excuse me, Professor Cullen?"

I look up to see a young man who is barely a day over eighteen standing in front of me, shoulders hunched over, intimidated to be walking into my office. I recognize the student as Peter Wills from my undergraduate finance class. He reminds me a lot of myself when I was that age, young and faltering and nervous about approaching my professors. I am reminded why I chose teaching in the first place.

"Peter, please come in, how can I help you?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 5

BPOV

After my work day and Google stalking of Professor Hottie, I arrive home to be greeted by Sampson's happy wagging tail. After I took him for a walk and fed him, I decided it was time to crack open my Finance book and see if I could finish this assignment. Since class meets twice a week, I had to finish my first assignment tonight so that it would be ready for class tomorrow.

Two hours, a bag of popcorn, and a diet coke later, I am staring blankly at this assignment. I was able to work through the balance sheets pretty easily, but I struggled on the cash flow. Since each class had a chat room, I decided to log in and see if any teaching assistants were available so that I could get my questions answered.

When I logged in, I noticed that there were five other people already in the chat room. I felt a bit relieved to know I wasn't the only one who was looking for assistance tonight. I open up a chat window and begin to ask my questions.

_swanb: Any TAs out there who can assist with Assignment 1?_

_welchm: I'm not a TA but maybe I can help with your questions? If you want I can send you my assignment to compare answers._

_swanb: Thanks, but that sounds like an honor code violation. If there are no TAs online I'll just send an e-mail and hope for a response by morning._

_cullenea: I'm pleased to see that you follow some of the rules, Miss Swan. Is there a question about the assignment that you would like to pose to the classroom chat session?_

Ugh – you've got to be kidding me! Does this guy have nothing better to do than troll around online waiting for unsuspecting students to break rules? Regardless, I need help and would prefer not having to pull an all-nighter to get the assignment completed.

_swanb: Hello Professor Cullen. I have completed the balance sheet section but am having problems on the cash flow analysis. I was wondering if my errors are calculation or if I've missed one of the concepts._

Beep! I see a separate chat window pop up on my screen:

_cullenea requests a private chat session with you. Do you accept?_

Hell, I'll accept a stone tablet from this guy if it gets me an A on the first assignment. I click "Yes".

_cullenea: Miss Swan, I wanted to ensure that I could help you without giving other students free answers. What part of the cash flow analysis is troubling you?_

For the next half hour I send my questions to Professor Hottie and he is very patient in explaining the concepts around the cash flow analysis. I see where my calculations were wrong and I believe that I now understand enough to finish the assignment. Sampson started to whine letting me know it was time to go out again before his bedtime.

_swanb: Well Professor Cullen, I appreciate your help. My dog is whining so I'd better let him out and finish this assignment. _

_cullenea: You are quite welcome, Miss Swan. What kind of dog do you have?_

_swanb: Well, Sampson is a chocolate lab, but he's convinced that he's human so I try not to remind him of his canine roots. He's sort of in denial._

_cullenea: Ha ha. Labrador retrievers are wonderful companions, even though they don't always possess the best watchdog skills._

_swanb: Exactly! I think that Sampson would be more likely to lick an intruder to death than to attack him, but he has a ferocious bark and when you live alone that is often more important._

_cullenea: Well, I am glad to hear that Sampson is there protecting you now, Miss Swan._

_swanb: Please, call me Bella. After all, we have shared a private chat session together. _

_cullenea: Ok, Bella. Take care of Sampson and I'll see you in class tomorrow._

Wow…Professor Hottie was almost human, and he called me by my first name, or at least wrote my first name in the chat window. I took a wistful breath as I let Sampson outside, imagining my name rolling off of Professor Hottie's lips.

Gah! I had to laugh at myself for a moment. It's been awhile since I have dated anyone seriously. After Mike I really haven't met anyone who made me want to open up again. But given the fact that I'm fantasizing about my uptight Professor saying my first name, it might be time for me to get out there again.

Before I went to bed I checked my Blackberry and noticed that I had an e-mail from an "E.A. Cullen". In it was a link to a site that was all about proper care and treatment of Labrador Retrievers. No greeting, no signature, just a link. But in his own nerdy, uptight way, I knew that Professor Cullen was trying to be friendly. And damn if I didn't have a smile on my face as I went to bed thinking about what I'd say to him tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 6

BPOV

I blocked off my calendar starting at 4:30 so I could give myself ninety minutes to get to class. And here I am at 5:05, assignment in hand, fifty-five minutes early. Oh well, at least I won't get called out today in class for showing up late by Professor Hottie. I decided to check my campus mailbox and take a walk outside to the coffee kiosk across the street. It is a beautiful day, still unseasonably warm, and I can feel sweat beading on the back of my neck as I walk. As I get in line at the coffee kiosk I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Good to see that traffic did not detain you, Miss Swan." I turn around and am surprised to see Professor Hottie briskly walking towards me. Surely he didn't cross the street to see me, did he? He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and I can see a slight sheen of sweat forming on his brow. I casually look at his left hand and notice he's not wearing a ring, although I know that doesn't necessarily mean he's unmarried. Although he still seems cautious with me, I notice that a glimmer of humor is in his eyes. He seems friendlier than I remember him from a few days ago.

"Well, I have an important class tonight and I certainly didn't want to disappoint my professor." I inwardly cringe at my sad attempt at flirting. I am pretty sure that instead of coy I came across as a horrible kiss ass. I noticed that the friendliness from just a few seconds before seems to disappear and be replaced with discomfort. He clears his throat and wipes the sweat forming on his brow.

"Well, I am sure that if you show up on time with your completed assignment you will be fine. I am guessing that you are grabbing a cup of coffee to make up for the late night working on your assignment. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

WHOA…Professor Hottie wants to buy me a cup of coffee? I am not sure how to read this but of course I need to at least find out his intentions. "Why thank you, Professor Cullen. But please, call me Bella."

"Okay, Bella." He offers me a slight smile and purchases two cups of coffee. He hands me a cup and then begins to walk back towards the building, apparently seeing our interaction as complete. I debate whether I should call after him and decide against it. Why in the world would he be interested? I am just another Masters student in his class. He probably felt bad for being so hard on me the last class and thought that a cup of coffee would make us even. I shrug off any delusions of grandeur and decide to walk to the classroom and get situated before the other students arrive.

The first half of class goes by relatively smoothly. I get up to stretch and I see a flock of female students approaching Professor Cullen. I see his tight smile as they approach and wonder if he bought any of them coffee before class. I wander out into the hall and see another student approaching me.

"Bella Swan? Hi, remember me from the chat room last night? It's Mike. Mike Welch. How did your assignment go?"

I take a good look at Mike. He's attractive in a boyish sort of way, but I certainly don't feel any butterflies in my stomach. However, he seems nice enough and may be a good study partner for the midterm and final. "Hi, Mike, I am Bella Swam, it's nice to meet you. Yeah, the assignment was a little tricky but I think I did okay. How about you?"

"I thought the assignment was pretty tough. Cullen seems like a real hard ass. He was riding you pretty hard during the first class. I mean, you were five minutes late, big deal." Mike takes a step closer, and I can feel myself leaning away from him. I don't want him to get the wrong idea about where this is (or is not) going.

"Professor Cullen obviously is a stickler for punctuality, so we'd better get back into class," I wink at Mike and turn around to see none other than Professor Hottie himself standing behind me. I wonder how much of our conversation he's heard, but by the look on his face I see that he only heard my comments. I open my mouth to say something but he turns away and walks back into the classroom. Shit. So much for the goodwill I thought I had built with him.

As I sit there during the remainder of class, I begin to feel worse about Professor Hottie's reaction to my conversation with Mike. He must have thought I was making fun of him in some way since he didn't hear Mike's initial comments. I tried to make eye contact with him during class but he wouldn't look at me at all through the remainder of class. When class was over I took my time packing my things, waiting for the rest of the students to clear the room.

"Look, Professor Cullen, I believe you may have overheard part of my discussion with Mike during the break. It wasn't what you think. I don't want you to think that I meant any disrespect." I tentatively walk towards him as I am speaking.

"You owe me no explanation, Miss Swan," he smiles slightly, but the smile never reaches his eyes.

"I thought we agreed you'd call me Bella," I say, trying to make a joke.

"I guess I'm a stickler for formality as well as punctuality," he says, forcing a chuckle.

Maybe it was the caffeine from the coffee earlier, or maybe it was the adrenaline rush I was feeling from approaching him at all, but I decided that I wanted to know more about this man, even if it was just as my Professor. I wanted to go bold.

"What does the E.A. stand for, Professor Cullen?"

"Edward. Edward Anthony Cullen. Why do you ask?" he questions.

"Well, Edward, it seems that no matter how hard I try to do the right thing by you, I give off the wrong impression. So I am just going to lay it out there. I am Bella, Bella Swan, global marketing executive and MBA student. I don't make it a habit of being late to class, drinking too much caffeine, or pissing off my professors. However, I seem to have done all of the above this week. You're new in town, and maybe you've already met a lot of people. But if you want to meet some other professionals in town, there's a happy hour on Friday night. I will send you the address in email. There are lots of twenty and thirty-somethings that will be there, and it is not a meat market, it's really a professional atmosphere. I hope to see you there. If not, have a good weekend."

I stride out of the room before he can see my knees are shaking. I can't believe I just asked him to come out tomorrow night.

Once I get home and take care of Sampson, I decide to check my e-mail. I see that I have one new message from E.A. Cullen. In the message there is just one line.

_Time and place?_

I quickly send him the details for the happy hour and then go to bed. I have no idea where I am going with this, and for once, I try not to overanalyze. I give Sampson an extra squeeze as I try to fall asleep.

A/N: I hope you are enjoying this so far. This is my first fan-fiction and I've been a little nervous, so thanks all for the reviews!

Next up is Edward's POV.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 7

EPOV

I wish I knew what possessed me to send Bella Swan an e-mail regarding her happy hour event. Rationally, there was no reason why I _shouldn't_ go. I didn't have any classes on Friday, so I could spend the entire day grading assignments. Also, outside of a few faculty members I had not met anyone in Pittsburgh, and I was unlikely to put myself in a situation where I would meet anyone besides students, which certainly had its drawbacks.

It certainly wasn't unusual for professors to share drinks with their students. In fact, the school promoted us attending happy hour events because it helped to build a sense of community within the university. For me to attend a happy hour event, especially a professional networking one, was not only allowed but encouraged.

I was lying to myself if I pretended that my attendance at a happy hour event was normal for me. I never accepted invitations from students, and to attend an event where alcohol is involved is even more risky. So why did I accept the invite?

Over the past few days I've realized that I misread Bella Swan when I thought that she tried to use her attractiveness to take the easy way through life. She logged into the class chat room at a reasonable time looking for help rather than waiting until the last minute. When Mike Welch offered to send her the assignment, she immediately refused it even though she had no clue that I was in the chat room myself. Her questions were well formed and she had obviously spent some time working on the assignment before she sought guidance. She clearly was a hard worker and wanted to get things correct, not just complete.

I was also intrigued with her personally. She obviously had a pretty important position if she was fielding conference calls late at night, and instead of being resentful of the intrusion, she seemed to take pleasure in being involved. She had a "no-nonsense" air about her, and I respected that.

She also mentioned during our chat discussion that she lived alone with her dog. It seemed like she had so much to offer in a relationship, so why would she be alone? Her affection for her dog showed that she was willing to sacrifice and give of herself, but she'd rather do it with a dog than a person. This intrigued me.

When I saw her across the street getting a cup of coffee, I decided to walk up to her and buy her a cup myself. She tried to make a joke that would have been suggestive from another woman. But the expression on her face after she said it made it obvious that she had felt awkward about her comments. Why would a woman who clearly has a grasp on the world feel awkward with me, the new professor for Finance?

Although I didn't hear a word that she said to Mike Welch, the expression on her face told me that I was part of their conversation. I momentarily wondered whether or not she was confiding some plan to embarrass me, but realized how ridiculous and self-centered I was for assuming she was plotting something devious. As I taught the rest of class, I could feel her eyes burning into me, almost pleading with me to connect with her, but I avoided making eye contact, knowing that it would just prove to be an unnecessary distraction.

Her apology and ultimate invitation to me took a lot of courage on her part. I could see her fingers fidgeting on her bag as she explained all of the ways that we got off on the wrong foot. As she walked away I saw her take a deep, cleansing breath, as if she'd just expended all of the courage she had in our brief conversation.

While I lay in bed, I thought about the possibility of becoming more cordial with Bella Swan. I certainly couldn't afford to befriend her, at least while I had her in class, and my mind would not even conceive anything more than friendship. But maybe I could get to know her a bit better, and at the end of the semester we could become friends. I thought about this possibility as I drifted off to sleep.

At 6:00 AM my alarm went off even though I had no classes. I liked to keep the same routine each day regardless of my class workload. I got up and took a nice brisk run through Shadyside, feeling the burn in my muscles as I tackled the steep hills. After breakfast and a nice hot shower, I decided to start grading assignments.

When I got to Bella's assignment, I felt a bit of excitement for being able to see what she had done with the questions. However, when I started to read her answers, I became concerned. Although she did very well on the cash flow analysis section that we worked on together in the chat room, she completely missed the answers on the balance sheet. I tried to find an arithmetic error so I could at least give her partial credit for applying the concept, but unfortunately she missed the boat entirely. She only got a 65% on the assignment, and based on the other responses I could tell the mean was going to be around 80%. This was not a good start for her in my class.

I briefly panicked, knowing I would see her later on tonight at happy hour. Should I send her the graded assignment now? Should I tell her about her grade tonight? Should I wait until the weekend is over so she is not upset about it?

I took a deep breath and realized that regardless of whether or not there was friendship in the future with Bella, I needed to treat her and the rest of my class with the same methodical process that I've used for all of my previous classes. And I typically send the assignments back out before the weekend so that my students can process their mistakes and ask questions before the next class. So I finished grading the assignments and sent them to each of my students with my comments attached. When I got to Bella's, I decided to include a note.

TO:

FROM:

SUBJECT: Assignment 1

_Bella,_

_Attached please find your grade for the first assignment. It's not unusual for first time Finance students to have trouble with the concepts. If you'd like, we can set up an appointment this weekend to review the assignment and the correct answers._

_Best,_

_Edward_

I clicked "Send" before I had time to reconsider my message to her. I hoped she wouldn't misconstrue it in anyway, or that it would ruin any opportunities for conversation with her tonight. Since it was mid afternoon I decided that I would retrieve directions to the bar. It was a place called "Rivertowne" and it was on the north side of the city. I found the website online and learned that it was known for some of its own microbrews. As I saved the directions into my phone, I heard my e-mail beep. Bella had sent me a response.

TO:

FROM:

SUBJECT: RE: Assignment 1

_Edward,_

_I don't believe I have ever gotten less than a 75% on an assignment in my life. I cannot believe that I missed the concepts so entirely on balance sheet analysis. I certainly don't want to waste your time this weekend, so if you have a student that you would recommend for me to hire as a tutor, I will contact them today._

_I hope that my poor performance has not made you change your mind about happy hour tonight. I can assure you that the people at this event are not vapid, as apparently I am in Finance._

_Bella_

I had to chuckle a bit. Obviously Bella valued intelligence in others and assumed that I did as well, since she assumed that I would abandon happy hour based on her assignment grade. I decided to send one final note before I began to get ready for tonight.

TO:

FROM:

SUBJECT: RE: Assignment 1

_Bella,_

_I will see you tonight at Rivertowne. I hope you can recommend a good microbrew for me, I must say that the Pale Ale sounds intriguing. And please bring your Blackberry so we can coordinate calendars for a weekend appointment._

_Best,_

_Edward_

I felt foolish for wondering what I should wear tonight. I didn't know if jeans and a button down shirt would be too casual, but I didn't want to be too formal for a Friday evening. I decided that black jeans and a gray button down shirt would suffice. Since it was still unseasonably warm, I rolled up my sleeves and left the top two buttons undone. A few nervous tugs through my hair and I was ready. I thought it might be best for me to get there early and have a drink before the masses arrived so I could calm my nerves. I should have asked if anyone else from our class would be in attendance, but on second thought I couldn't remember Bella associating with anyone other than Mike Welch. I wondered if he would be coming with Bella tonight. I sincerely hoped that was not the case, but wondered why it would matter anyways.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 8

BPOV

I woke up on Friday morning with a little more enthusiasm than most mornings. Sure, it's Friday, and that's always a good thing, but I knew that Professor Hottie, or Edward as I was hoping to call him, was coming to a happy hour tonight after my awkward invitation after class.

After Sampson and I took our morning walk I looked at my calendar for the day. As it turned out, I didn't have any pressing meetings in the office today, so I decided to work from home and spend the day catching up on e-mails with Sampson so that I could get ready for the happy hour tonight.

While I was sitting there reviewing e-mails, I had a minor panic attack thinking of the situation I created tonight. First of all, the happy hour was a compilation of many of my professional friends that worked across town, so it's always an interesting opportunity to have some of my work friends interact with each other. But adding Edward to the mix and trying to get to know him a bit better was going to require me to be on top of my game.

My feelings towards Edward are almost as much an enigma as Edward himself. He has very classic features and is undeniably attractive. But I am not just attracted to him physically. He's smart, can be witty in class, and unlike many other professors, seems to genuinely enjoy teaching. His demeanor is very approachable when he is behind the podium, and he shows patience to students who ask questions.

The moment he steps away from the podium, however, you can tell that his comfort level disappears. It seems that he has no desire to connect to any of the students in a personal way, and does not go out of his way to encourage interaction during class breaks and after class.

And yet he has made a few attempts to reach out to me personally, from the e-mail on Labrador retrievers to the acceptance of my invitation to happy hour. I am usually very good at interpreting others' intentions and motivations, and I am drawing a blank with Edward.

Regardless, he is my professor, and nothing can happen between us as long as that is the case. But I'd like to get to know him better and assess whether there is anything worth pursuing when the semester is over.

While I am sitting there I receive an e-mail from Edward. My excitement soon dissipates when I realize that he's delivering my assignment grade.

What the hell….a 65%? How is that possible? I have NEVER gotten a 65% in my life. I quickly scan through the assignment and I can't see what I did wrong. I pull out my book and start scanning furiously, still having no luck in finding my mistakes. It then dawns on me that Edward may now think I am somehow flirting with him to try and get through this class. How embarrassing! I quickly send him an e-mail to see if he can help me find a tutor. He fires back a response and offers to tutor me this weekend.

So at 3:00 I realize the following things. First, I am a finance idiot and I need to get my act together pretty quickly if I am going to do well in this class. Second, Edward knows I am a finance idiot and still wants to spend some personal time with me. Third, I am not going to worry about finance anymore tonight. I am going to put it out of my mind and worry about it tomorrow, ala Scarlett O'Hara.

So I decide to put on my best workout music and take a nice long run with Sampson. When my lungs are bursting and my muscles are burning, I take a nice long shower cool down. I debated what I should wear for happy hour, and decide that casual but chic is going to be the way to go. So I put on a pair of jeans, a blouse, and knee length boots. I head into town and instead of heading directly into the Rivertowne bar, I decide to go into Calico Jack's, a Mexican restaurant / bar that is next door. I decided that a shot of Patron before I walked into the bar would help me to loosen up a bit more quickly. I walk into the Rivertowne and look to see who is there.

Immediately I see my friend Alice and several other colleagues. I scan the room quickly and at the end of the bar I see him sitting there, nursing a beer, and looking pretty uncomfortable. I decide to walk up and start the conversation.

"Is that a Babbling Blonde in your hand?" I ask him as he gives me a slight smirk. The Babbling Blonde is one of the house microbrews and it always makes for some playful conversation after you've consumed a few.

"Actually, I was sticking with the Pale Ale for right now. I much prefer babbling brunettes to babbling blondes." A slow lazy smile spreads across his face and it occurs to me that this is not his first drink. Is Professor Hottie a lightweight?

"Well, I think I'll take a Babbling Blonde for now. They go down easy." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize the double meaning to my words and immediately feel like an ass. I can feel my cheeks getting red as get ready to apologize. "I am sorry, Professor Cullen, I know that came off wrong."

"Edward, please call me Edward. Professor Cullen sounds so old." He's still smiling, but I can tell that his eyes are a bit more guarded than they were before.

I decide that I need to break the ice with the rest of my colleagues. "Edward, come with me and meet some of my friends. Be sure to bring some singles so we can play music on the digital jukebox."

Edward meets Alice and some of the others and makes small talk. I can see Alice's eyes are curious but I give her a glare that says, "NOT NOW" and she respects it. I lead Edward over to the jukebox and we begin discussing what songs will set the right mood for the Friday happy hour crowd. We agree to each pick two songs to play and then explain why we selected them.

Since it's still early in the evening, I select one of my favorites and one that is a crowd favorite. I pick "Two Step" by Dave Matthews Band and "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey. I explain that Dave Matthews Band is my favorite group, and that I know that if you're in a bar anywhere in the world, people will sing along with "Don't Stop Believing" so it's a good song for a social setting.

Edward selects "Mr. Brightside" by the Killers and "Resistance" by Muse. "Music should not be chosen to suit the mood of the room, but rather should set the mood itself. 'Mr. Brightside's' beat and bittersweet lyrics will keep people upbeat while not overpowering the conversation. 'Resistance' is a crescendo, building the tone of the music a bit more strongly as people continue to drink," Edward explained to me, leaning in so close to my ear that I could feel his breath on face. I resisted the urge to casually touch his arm while we were talking. I didn't want to push it too far.

Edward comes back with another round of drinks for the two of us. He seems to be swaying a bit as he walks towards me. I suggest that we sit down and order an appetizer to counteract the effects of the beer. Edward sits very close next to me at the bar, so close that our knees are touching. I can feel the nerve endings in my leg humming at the contact. He is looking at me so sincerely that I am almost afraid of what he's about to say.

"Bella, I want you to know, you are a pleasure, and I really enjoy your company. But I don't know if we should become friends. I am your professor, and I don't want to lead you down a path that will only end in complications for both of us."

"Edward, I agree, we have to be careful if we are going to become friends as you are my professor. But I see no harm in us being friendly, more casual acquaintances. It doesn't have to be complicated." I try to smile reassuringly and excuse myself to walk to the ladies room.

When I come out of the bathroom, I notice that Edward is standing there, as if he is waiting for me. When I open my mouth to ask why he is standing there, he quickly puts his hands on either side of my face and presses his lips to mine. It started off as a gentle, chaste kiss, almost as if he were saying goodbye. But as soon as our lips made contact I could feel the energy between the two of us. I grab the lapels on his shirt and pull him closer to me, my thumbs brushing gently against the crinkle of hair across his chest. I breathe deeply and Edward takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, stroking my lips and sighing into me. I weave one hand around his shoulders to the back of his neck, reaching under his collar to stroke the skin just underneath. I can feel Edward's thumbs stroking the sides of my face as we continue to kiss as though our lives depended on it.

As abruptly as the kiss began, Edward pulls away from me, looking shocked. "I'm so sorry, I've had a bit too much to drink, and this is entirely inappropriate. Please forgive me Bella." And with a final stroke of my cheek, Edward is gone, and I am trying to figure out exactly what the hell happened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 9

BPOV

My lips are still raw from what might just be the best kiss I've ever had in my life. But I can also feel so confused by the course of events tonight. While I stand there stunned, Alice walks over and grabs me by the shoulders.

"Bella? Where have you been? Did I hear your guy say that he was a professor? Is THAT Professor Hottie? Where did he go?" Alice bursts with all of the questions that she's been saving until we were alone.

"Alice, I have no idea what just happened, but I can't stay here and make small talk. You can either come with me or I'll call you tomorrow." I grab my purse and say my goodbyes to the others that are still lingering at the bar. Alice, knowing that I need some space but don't want to be alone, grabs her purse as well and follows me out of the bar.

"What do you say we head back to your house and take Sampson on an evening walk?" Alice catches up to me even though it requires her to take three steps for each of my own. "I'll follow you back to your place."

"That sounds perfect Al; the only male that I want to be around tonight is Sampson." Alice looks at me quizzically but doesn't say a word. We agree to meet at my house.

Once we get there and Sampson smothers her with doggie kisses, we take a long walk and I tell Alice about the events of my evening, ending with the amazing kiss and surprising goodbye from Edward. She listens patiently until I finish before she launches into her observations.

"First of all, Bella let me tell you that you weren't lying, he is HOT. If he wasn't totally absorbed by you, I might have given it a shot. But there's no way I was going to mack on him." I open my mouth to protest and she simply glares at me, letting me know that it's my turn to listen and her turn to talk. Sometimes I believe half of our conversations take place when we aren't talking to each other.

"Second of all, you have to realize that he was totally into you, but he's completely conflicted, and it's not just because he's your professor. He's had his heart broken, Bella. A man who has good looks, a great career, and has just landed in a new city should have a swagger. He was clearly lacking some confidence in there, and it is obvious that he doesn't know what to do with what he's feeling about you."

I try to think about Edward's reactions to me and consider what Alice has said about his confidence. He definitely was working on a buzz when I had arrived, so he must have gotten there early to get some liquid confidence. He stayed close by but wouldn't fully show his interest, until, of course, the kiss.

And the kiss, well, it felt like it was both a first and a last kiss rolled into one. But maybe he didn't feel the same way that I did. The attraction must not have been there for him in the same way it was for me.

"Alice, I was supposed to make an appointment with him to get tutoring help this weekend. What am I going to do? I can't face him now!" I lean down to scratch Sampson's ears, embarrassed at the thought of having to face him in class, let alone one on one.

"Listen to me Bella, and listen carefully. Whatever is going on in that head of yours, you need to let it go. You are going to send him an e-mail in the morning, and you are going to set up an appointment. Furthermore, you are going to act as though nothing is wrong. I don't know what his story is, but this guy has some kind of baggage. Worst case scenario, you need to get through the class successfully, so you need to find a way to get along with him for the next thirteen weeks. Better case scenario, what if there is something there? What if, behind whatever is going on with Professor Hottie, he's worth it? I just have a feeling that if there is something worthwhile there, you're going to have to work for it with him."

Alice grabs my keys and walks ahead of me, unlocking the door to get back into the house. "The first step to everything or nothing is with you, babe. But you've gotta send that e-mail." She gives me a hug goodbye and heads home, leaving Sampson and I to cuddle into bed.

The clock reads 11:00 once I am settled in, and I decide to check my e-mail. No messages, but I didn't expect any since the last time I logged in. I thought a lot about what Alice had said to me about making that first move and I decided to send him an e-mail tonight.

TO: swanb

FROM: cullenea

SUBJECT: Tutoring assistance

_Edward,_

_Thanks again for coming out tonight. I enjoyed hanging out with you and learning more about your musical tastes. Since you left in a hurry, I didn't get the chance to set an appointment time with you to review the materials from last week. I'm still very interested in having that appointment, and I am flexible this weekend to accommodate your schedule. Please let me know when you might be available._

_Also if you would prefer I seek out another student for assistance, I would appreciate it if you could recommend someone who might be willing to tutor through this semester._

_Bella_

As I get ready for bed I think back to my relationship with Mike, and how it ultimately ended. For years we had dated on again/off again throughout high school and college, always breaking up because he decided it was for the best that we were only friends. I became numb to these breakups because I knew that it was only a matter of time until we would be back together again and the cycle would start. I thought this was just how it was when people dated. At one point he would grow out of the cycle and he would settle down.

Until we broke up and he met someone else, and decided that he couldn't live without her. He proposed to her in less than a year. I never fully grieved the loss because it took me so long to realize it was actually over. So I just remained numb. I decided to focus on myself and my education, and then subsequently my career as well. I did what I could to not feel when it came to my heart. And it worked beautifully, until last week.

I realized that I wanted to feel again. Even if the situation with Edward was going nowhere, I at least needed to make this right so that I could get through the semester. And if everything happens for a reason, maybe the reason for all of this madness was to remind me that it was time to be human again. I snuggled up to Sampson and wondered what Edward was doing right now as I tossed and turned into a fitful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 10

EPOV

I wake up in the morning with a terrible headache. As I stretched in my bed I notice that my boxers are clinging to me in a sticky, uncomfortable way. Shit. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I would have a nocturnal emission after last night. I realize that if I would "take care of matters" more regularly I'd be less likely to have this problem, but I find that masturbating just reminds me of all the reasons I was alone.

I jump into the shower to rinse myself off and think about everything that happened last night, feeling embarrassed by my behavior with Bella. I got there ninety minutes early so I could kick back a few drinks before she arrived. Rivertowne is a nice brew pub on the river, nestled in between the baseball and football stadiums on the North Shore. I decided to try an Old Wylie's IPA since it was one of the brews made by the bar. The beer was cold and smooth and before I knew it I was ordering my fourth round. The bartender commented that I must be "on a mission" to be throwing back the IPA which was 6.2% alcohol. I gave her a quick, thin smile, threw the money on the bar, and angled my body away from her so I could watch and wait for her to arrive.

A Friday night happy hour is a great social experiment. Throw a bunch of people together who have been working all week into a big room, and give them copious amounts of alcohol and you can watch as their behavior becomes less and less inhibited. I wondered myself if I would be one of them if I were normal. For a few minutes I decided to torture myself and wonder what I would do if I could pursue someone like Bella. Before I had the chance to let my mind wander, I saw Bella walk into the bar, glancing around for her friends.

Bella looked fantastic as she walked up to her friends. She was dressed casually but well put together. When she walked in a whole group of people motioned to her, calling her name and signaling for her to join them. Her face lit up as she said hello and greeted them, but I could tell that she was searching for someone as she scanned the bar. I could only hope that it was me.

When she saw me across the bar, I saw her expression change. She looked…happy. Was she really that excited to see me?

"Is that a Babbling Blonde in your hand?" she asks me, as her eyes are twinkling and mischievous. I had seen the Babbling Blonde on the list of house brews, so I knew she was trying to make a clever joke. Bella's presence next to me, along with the heady buzz of my numerous drinks, made me feel warm and bold. I decided that a little bit of flirting wouldn't hurt anything.

"Actually, I was sticking with the Pale Ale for right now. I much prefer babbling brunettes to babbling blondes." I smile back at her, but my face feels as though I'm grinning like an idiot. Maybe my buzz is a little stronger than I originally thought.

"Well, I think I'll take a Babbling Blonde for now. They go down easy." No sooner did the words leave Bella's mouth and I felt a twinge in my groin, considering the double entendre of her statement. Apparently Bella hadn't considered the double meaning because her face dropped and she immediately began to blush. She started to stammer an apology and called me "Professor Cullen". I felt a little disappointed that she so quickly wanted to formalize our interaction. After all, I came here under friendly pretenses, not as her professor.

After she introduced me to her friends we went over to the digital jukebox and picked out some music. I learned through our discussion that Bella was a people pleaser, trying to select songs that she thought would be good for the crowd. I selected some music which, in retrospect was pretty revealing about me and my feelings being around Bella. She was so effervescent, like a bubbly soda, and I felt like I was the ice that would just water her down. There's no way that I could be good for her.

We shared an appetizer and as I leaned in I felt our knees brush against each other. Being in such close proximity to her I could feel myself being pulled into her. My heart started pounding in my chest, and I started to feel a little bit nervous. I needed to set her expectations that this could go nowhere.

Her reaction was a patient smile and a comment that we didn't have to make things complicated. She was telling me to lighten up! If she only knew how complicated things could get, and how disappointed she would be. She stepped up and went to the bathroom. I knew that I needed to leave. I could feel my buzz starting to wear off and I was getting nervous about the situation I had put myself in. I paid the tab and started walking over to towards the door. I went to see if she had come out of the bathroom and just as I did, she burst out of the bathroom.

Before I had the chance to think about what I would say to Bella, I allowed my body to lead me rather than my head. I put my hands on Bella's face and felt how soft her skin was, and how wide her eyes were at my approach. I pressed my lips against hers and felt immersed in the moment.

By some miracle, Bella was immersed right along with me. She grabbed my shirt and pulled me in closer increasing the urgency on my lips. When she parted her lips I took the opportunity to taste her more fully in our kiss. Feeling her hands pressed against my chest and her lips and tongue moving with mine, I had an important revelation.

I had an erection. And I was dangerously close to revealing this to Bella.

I ended our kiss and apologized for my being so unprofessional. I needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. I hailed a cab home and then proceeded to open that bottle of Jack Daniels I'd received as a Bon Voyage present from Stanford colleagues and drink myself into oblivion.

It certainly wasn't the first time I had gotten an erection before. I'd even had erections with women in the past. My problem is that once it becomes clear that we're heading towards intercourse, I lose my erection and cannot get it back. Believe me, it is unspeakably embarrassing to not be able to perform when you are in a relationship, to not be able to satisfy the woman in that most basic way. For this reason, I've decided that I cannot put myself in a relationship where I have to face this embarrassment. I will find satisfaction in my work, in my achievements, and in the joy of helping students achieve their goals.

And it is for that reason that, despite my embarrassment for the previous evening's events, when I read the e-mail from Bella asking for help, I knew that I had face her and do what I could to help her through Finance.

We agreed to meet at Pamela's in Squirrel Hill, because Bella said they had the best pancakes in Pittsburgh. Bella was already inside, drinking a cup of coffee, and she smiled when she saw me walk through the door. I could tell from her expression though that she was nervous. I gave her a half hearted smile and sat down across from her in the booth.

"So you say these are the best pancakes in Pittsburgh, eh? What makes them so special?" I smile at her as she continues to sip her coffee.

"One can't explain the magnificence of Pamela's pancakes; one must experience them for himself." She smiled and made eye contact with the waitress, and with a nod I could see that our order was taken.

"So look Edward, I'm just going to say all of this now and get rid of the elephant in the back of the room. Yes, we kissed last night and I don't regret it. But I am sorry that you were in a compromising position. So what do you say that you and I just focus on the finance stuff, because the truth of the matter is that I need your help. The semester is another thirteen weeks long. If we decide that we want to be friends after that, we'll be free to do so. If we don't, well, at least I got the best finance tutor at CMU. What do you say?"

I must have been gawking at her because it took me a few seconds after she finished her speech to just process what she had said. It was as though she understood how I was feeling and addressed my concerns before I had a chance to voice them. This amazing creature across from me had left me speechless.

Once I finished staring at her, I decided that she deserved honesty as well. "Bella, you are really one of a kind. I'd like to get to know you better. But now is not the time. Until you are no longer my student, I think the best thing for us to do is focus on finance. But before we do, there's one other thing." I pause for a moment, hoping that I can make her smile. "Where are these pancakes?"

Bella giggled and as if she planned it, two heaping plates of pancakes filled with fresh strawberries arrive. She wasn't lying – these pancakes were amazing. We went through the finance homework assignment for three hours afterwards. I could tell that Bella was frustrated that she was not catching on quickly. But by the end of our session, I think she understood the basics. If she had to do the assignment over again, she could nail it. I could tell she felt better about what she'd accomplished today and I was proud that I could help her.

Bella insisted on paying the check, saying it was the least she could do for the homework assistance. As she walked out to her car, she gave me a little wave before she walked in the distance. I watched her until I saw her get in, and then headed back to my place.

I couldn't place the feeling that I had as I walked back, until finally it dawned on me. I was looking forward to seeing her in class. The idea that I was anticipating something was enough to put me in a good mood for the rest of the weekend.

A/N: Hey everyone, thank you for all of the feedback and support so far for my little story! We've still got a lot to learn about what made Bella and Edward the people they are, and we need Edward to gain a little confidence in himself. I'm going to try to post 2-3 times a week with these short chapters, so please bear with me, more is on the way!


	11. Chapter 11

BPOV

Time trudges on, as it usually does, and I can't believe I'm already a week away from my Finance midterm. Since my tutoring session with Edward over pancakes, we've maintained contact with each other through polite, Finance-related e-mails. Of course, I still get to watch him intently as he teaches our class twice a week. I must admit that I've found myself daydreaming on several occasions, watching his lips move and thinking about the electricity I felt when he kissed me. But when I start to drift too far into those daydreams, I remind myself that I'm technically failing this class and need to understand this stuff for the midterm.

After clearing the air at Pamela's that morning, I hate to admit there was a part of me that was hopelessly disappointed that he didn't throw caution to the wind and tell me he wanted to pursue something with me. I'm not usually wistful and girly about these things, but my intuition tells me that there's potential there, but something is holding him back besides our current situation as student and teacher. I was replaying everything through my mind over lunch with Alice when she began waving her hand in front of my face.

"Isabella Marie Swan! Are you listening to anything that I've said for the past ten minutes?" Alice asks, glaring at me with frustration. I couldn't blame her. I've been awful company the past few weeks.

"Sorry, Al, I just drifted there for a minute. What were you saying?" I look at her apologetically, but I could tell by her expression she wasn't letting me off the hook that easily.

"Bella, it's been FOUR weeks, and neither you nor Professor Hottie has made a move. You told him that you didn't want to compromise your education. He told you he didn't want to compromise his position. Case closed! There's nothing that you can do until December, so why are you pining for him now?"

"I'm not pining, Alice. I've just been thinking about things and trying to figure out if I did the right thing." I focus intently on my salad hoping that Alice wouldn't expect me to talk anymore if my mouth was full of food.

"If you had been listening before, Bella, you would have heard that there is a new guy in my department and I think he meets all of your criteria. He's tall, he's smart, he's funny, and he is single! I think this could be a perfect opportunity for you to get out there and see what the rest of Pittsburgh has to offer," Alice says, so excited she was nearly bouncing in her chair.

"If he's so great, Alice, why aren't you going after him? After all, you're just as single as I am." I look at Alice as she rolls her eyes dramatically at me.

"Because, silly girl, he totally not MY type. He's well over six feet tall! How exactly would that work if we got down and dirty? He'd probably split me in half!" Alice says as we both burst into laughter.

"Look, I'm not saying you should throw yourself at him or anything. I'm just saying that on Friday night when the usual crew gets together for drinks, I'll invite him to join us. And you, my dear, can make an effort to at least speak with him. His name's Jacob but I've heard everyone calling him Jake around the office."

I agree to at least meet the guy as we walk back to the office. When I log onto my computer I see that I have a message waiting for me from Edward.

_TO: _

_FROM: _

_SUBJECT: Study session this weekend?_

_Hi Bella,_

_I hope this message finds you well. As you know, our finance midterm is next week. Since the midterm is thirty percent of your grade, I thought I would offer to have a study session with you this weekend to review the materials with you. Maybe we could meet at Pamela's again for breakfast?_

_Wishing you a good day,_

_Edward_

I feel my heart thudding in my chest. He's offering to tutor me personally for the midterm, which is not only a very generous but a very thoughtful gesture considering my only grade in this class so far is my awful homework grade. I click reply and quickly send him a response.

_TO: _

_FROM: _

_SUBJECT: RE: Study session this weekend?_

_Hi Edward,_

_I would definitely like to take you up on your offer for help – I need to do exceptionally well on the midterm if I'm going to pull up my grade. Instead of breakfast at Pamela's, why don't I take you to another Pittsburgh tradition? Let's go to Primanti's for lunch in the Strip District. And by all means, bring your appetite and leave your cholesterol count at the door._

_See you tonight at class,  
Bella_

As Friday afternoon rolls around I find myself dreading happy hour, which is uncharacteristic for me. It's not that I wouldn't like to meet a nice guy, but the idea of Alice trying to force it makes me cringe. I drive home and take a nice walk with Sampson, thinking about what I should wear for the evening.

I take a shower and give myself a good look in the mirror. I've never been considered drop dead gorgeous, but I am attractive enough. I figure that any man who would choose or deny me explicitly on my looks isn't worth my time anyways. I decide that dark jeans and a blouse with sandals are going to be good enough for tonight. I give Sampson a final kiss goodbye and head to Rivertowne.

When I get to the bar I immediately spot the guy that I presume is Jake. He's ridiculously tall, easily six feet five. I bet that I would only come up to his shoulder in my heels. He's got very dark eyes and I can see how white his teeth are as he throws his head back and laughs at something Alice said. I can only pray it had nothing to do with me.

"Bella! Come over here, we were just talking about you," Alice says as she throws Jake her brightest megawatt smile. I narrow my eyes at her briefly before making eye contact with this gargantuan man in front of me.

"Bella, I'm Jacob Black, but my friends call me Jake. I've heard so much about you from Alice, it's nice to finally meet you," Jake says while extending his hand. I shake it firmly and smile at him.

"It's nice to meet you Jake. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm going to get myself a beer." I maneuver myself through the crowds of people and step up to the bar to get a drink.

While I am waiting for the bartender to pour my Babbling Blonde, I notice a coppery headed man in my peripheral vision. As I look to the edge of the bar, I see that Edward is there, sharing a drink with another man that I recognize as another professor at CMU. He hasn't noticed me and I can see that they're both smiling and laughing about something. Not wanting to be seen, I pull my hair in front of my face and thank the bartender quietly for my drink as I turn my back to Edward and make my way back to my friends.

When I walk up to Alice I can see that she has that determined look that she reserves only for her drunk moments. She grabs my hand and walks me away from the rest of the group.

"See, I told you he's hot! What are you waiting for?" Alice says in a pretend whisper that is louder than her speaking voice. She's still holding my hand in front of us and I carefully try to wrench it away.

"Alice, he is very nice, but I've said all of two sentences to him! Please, for the love of Sampson, do not try to force this. If there's any chemistry there between us I'm sure we'll know it." I decide against telling Alice that Edward is here. In her increasingly inebriated state she may decide to have a talk with him, which will only further complicate things.

"Okay, Belly Lou, but don't wait too long! Someone is going to snag that boy." Alice wags her finger in my face, as though she's lecturing a naughty child. I roll my eyes and suggest that we join the rest of the group.

When we get back, I notice that Jake is nowhere to be found. All of a sudden I hear the electronic juke box blaring "Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC. I look over and see Jake bobbing his head up and down, playing the air guitar as if his life depended on it. Now, like anyone else, I can appreciate AC/DC, especially in a crowded bar on a Friday night. But the air guitar show is more than a little cheesy. I can only pray that he doesn't try to imitate Angus Young and sing the lyrics. As if acting out my own personal nightmare, I see Jake approach and start screeching in my ear:

"_She was a FAST machine. She kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman that I've EVER seen." _

Jake is holding up his "air microphone" now, trying to belt out that same grainy sound as the band. Without even looking I can feel the eyes around the bar staring at me. My entire head is filling with blood, making me blush a tomato red. I look at Jake, desperately pleading with my eyes to stop singing, but he is too busy having his "Angus Young moment" to notice. I glare at Alice who is dancing along to the song, also ignoring me.

I slither past the group and move towards the opposite end of the bar, hoping that Jake's massive form hid me from Edward's line of sight. I quickly gulp my beer and order another, this time going with the IPA, knowing I needed the extra alcohol to make this tolerable again.

When the next song comes on the jukebox, I draw in a sharp breath as I realize it's one of my favorite Coldplay songs. I close my eyes for a moment and enjoy my beer as I listen to the lyrics.

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are_

I had to find you  
Tell you I need you  
Tell you I've set you apart

Tell me your secrets  
And ask me your questions  
Oh, let's go back to the start

Running in circles  
Coming up tails  
Heads on the science apart

Nobody said it was easy  
It's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh take me back to the start

I was just guessing  
At numbers and figures  
Pulling the puzzles apart

Questions of science  
Science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Oh tell me you love me  
Come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start

Running in circles  
Chasing our tails  
Coming back as we are

Nobody said it was easy  
Oh, it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be so hard

I'm going back to the start 

I wonder to myself who would've put such an intense and mellow song on the jukebox when I hear a voice behind me speaking softly into my ear.

"I see that this selection suits the lady a bit more than heavy metal?" Edward looks at me with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"That's one of my favorites, Edward. Did you play it?"

"I told you before Bella, the music should set the mood of the evening, not vice versa. I decided that your friend chose unwisely for the mood of the bar, so I decided to reset it. I hope you don't mind," Edward says as he looks at me tentatively.

"I don't know that you can call him my "friend", since technically I met him about five minutes before he decided to grace us with an impromptu tribute to AC/DC. Had we been friends I would have prevented him from making an ass of himself and ruining any chances of getting laid tonight."

"Did he have a chance before the song? Of getting laid, that is?" Edward smiles but I could tell from the glimmer in his eyes that he desperately wants to know the answer to his rhetorical question.

"Well, I'm sure he could have charmed SOME unsuspecting woman out of her panties if he tried. As it stands now, I think he'll be lucky to get anything besides pointing and laughing from the ladies at the bar." Edward chuckles, but I can tell he's relieved by my answer.

I look around to see if Alice is anywhere to be found, and see that she is talking to Edward's friend, gesticulating wildly. He seems to be amused by her, standing there smiling while taking a long pull from his beer bottle.

"It looks like our friends are having a nice conversation," Edward says, nodding his head in the direction of Alice and the professor. "She caught Jasper's eye from the beginning of the AC/DC performance."

"Is that when you noticed I was here?" I ask him, watching his lips as he wrapped them around the beer bottle.

"I noticed you arrived the moment you walked in the door Bella. But I didn't want to interrupt your evening. It appeared as though you were otherwise engaged with the AC/DC fanatic."

"Thanks a lot! You could have saved me the mortification of being part of his karaoke act!" I decide to be a bit flirtatious with him and slap him playfully on the arm. When I touch him, I feel the same jolt of electricity as the last time we were in this bar together. He pulls back from me, apparently as affected by the contact as I am.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind if there's ever a 'next time'," Edward says. "On that note, I'd best be leaving. I have an important tutorial session tomorrow and I have to be up early to prepare the notes to make it worthwhile," he says, winking and giving me a smirk.

"Well, Edward, I am sure that your student greatly appreciates your efforts, and will repay you in the most delicious, greasy sandwich your mind can imagine."

"I'm depending on it. Drive safely Bella." Edward gives me a final nod and walks out of the bar. I watch him walk away and then decide that I should get home as well. I walk up to Alice to see that she's practically leaning her entire body on this "Jasper" character. He doesn't seem to mind, but there's no way I'm leaving her here alone with him in her drunken state.

"Alright sunshine, time to go home," I say to Alice as I wrap my arm around her waist, preparing to drag her out if necessary.

"BELLAH! Have you met my friend Jasper? He's a Professor at CMU with Professor Hottie," Alice yells as I look at her with a shocked expression.

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed." Jasper imitates a zippering motion across his lips. "I'm Jasper. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella. May I offer you ladies a ride home?"

"Nice to meet you Jasper," I say, extending my hand. "Thanks for the offer, but I have it from here." Jasper nods at us and I see Alice give him the "Call Me" symbol as I drag her out of the bar.

"BELLAH! Wasn't he dreamy? We would make such cute babies together," Alice slurs as I walk her to my car. Alice took a cab into town, which tells me she had planned to get a little crazy tonight. I decide to drive her back to her apartment since I have to study tomorrow. No sleepovers tonight.

Once I get home, I take Sampson outside and we walk around the neighborhood. He happily trots around the block with me, growling a few times at shadows that are cast by the streetlamps. After sniffing what seems like every solitary blade of grass along the way, we go inside and get ready for bed.

I check my Blackberry quickly and notice that I have another e-mail from Edward that he sent about an hour ago.

_TO: _

_FROM: _

_SUBJECT: Home safely?_

_Hello Bella,_

_I know that this is probably inappropriate, but I was hoping you could send me a message to let me know that you arrived home safely. I'm glad that we both happened to be at Rivertowne tonight. I hope you don't have any nightmares about Angus Young chasing you around town. _

_Best,  
Edward_

I quickly send him a note to let him know that I'm home and then snuggle up with Sampson. He cares, even if it is just a little. I can work with that.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

BPOV

It's a little after six in the morning when Sampson nuzzles his head next to mine and lets me know it's time to wake up. I quickly remember the events of the night before and bounce out of bed, feeling excited about my study session with Edward.

Sampson and I go for a quick walk around the block and he starts dragging me back to the house, apparently starving for his morning meal. I quickly feed him and decide to take a run to clear my head and burn off some calories in anticipation of the greasy Primanti's sandwich that I'll be consuming at lunch. I start to debate what I should wear for our study session when I catch my footing on a patch of gravel and fall. While still on the ground, I check my wrists and ankles for sprains and am pleased to find that I am fine. I only have a scraped knee for my clumsiness this time. But when I stand up, I realize that I must have gotten something in my left eye because it starts burning and watering profusely. I start poking frantically, trying to remove my contact lens and dislodge whatever is trapped in my eye. I awkwardly jog back to my house, holding one hand over my left eye.

When I get back into my house, I immediately go into the bathroom and remove my contact, flushing my eye out as best I could. I am able to finally get some relief from whatever particles were in my eye, but I realize my eye is very bloodshot and irritated. I remove my right lens as well and put my glasses off, hoping that they will calm down before lunch. I know that the glasses may make me look a bit more studious, but I wouldn't feel on top of my game unless I could wear my contacts.

Once I have my glasses on, I notice that Sampson is not standing next to me, wagging his tail, as would be his normal practice after I come inside from a run. I start calling for him, walking through the house, trying to find him. When I reach my bedroom, I see the reason why.

Across my unmade bed, Sampson has emptied the contents of his stomach, puking all over my comforter and sheets. He is sitting in the corner, head hanging low, waiting for a reprimand because he knows he did wrong. I walk over to my poor pup and try to reassure him that I'm not angry with him. Then I begin to survey the damage.

Poor Sampson didn't just vomit on the bed. He also did it on the carpets, the floors, and, ironically, in the bathroom near the toilet. If I didn't know better I would think he was trying to not make a mess for me. As I am rounding the corner I hear the telltale sound of a dog retching and know that he's still not done vomiting.

After a call to the vet, I realize that there is no way I'm going to be able to meet Edward for a study session. I can't decide if I am more panicked that I will not get the help on the assignment, or disappointed that I won't get to see Edward again. I walk over to my laptop and send him a message.

_TO: _

_FROM: _

_SUBJECT: Cannot meet today_

_Hi Edward,_

_I am truly sorry for doing this, but I have to cancel our lunch study session today. Sampson is not feeling so well and he had a bit of an episode in several parts of my house. Not only do I need to clean, but I also don't want to leave the poor guy alone today._

_I hope you don't mind, but I may reach out to you with some questions later once I have an opportunity to study._

_Sorry,_

_Bella_

I begin to strip the sheets off of my bed and clean up the mess there first. I am hoping that nothing seeped through to the mattress because that may be a more expensive issue to fix. After I get the laundry going, I begin to clean up each pile of puke one by one. After I've finished disinfecting, I look in the mirror and realize that I haven't cleaned myself up from my run. My knee is bleeding a little, my left eye still looks like I've been crying for days, and I obviously smell like a woman who went running and then decided to clean up vomit. I hop into the shower and turn the water on to a near-scalding temperature, hoping that I can get rid of the fetid feeling on my skin.

When I get out of the shower, wrap my hair in a towel, and put on my favorite fuzzy robe. I glance at my cell phone and am surprised to see that I have three missed calls from the same local number, but no messages. I decide to call the number to see who is trying to reach me. On the fourth ring I hear a familiar male voice.

"Bella? Are you okay?" Edward says, sounding a little breathless as he answers the phone.

I get a sick feeling in my stomach, wondering if he didn't receive my e-mail earlier and was waiting at Primanti's. "Oh Edward, I am so sorry, Sampson got sick all over my house and I have been trying to clean it up all morning. I sent you an e-mail but maybe you didn't receive it. I can't meet you today."

"I got your e-mail Bella, and I actually thought that maybe since you couldn't leave Sampson, I could come to you." Edward says slowly, as if waiting for me to understand his intention.

It suddenly occurs to me that I've never given him my cell phone number, and we've kept all of our communications to e-mails or classroom chat discussions. "How did you get my number?" I ask.

"I know this could be construed as inappropriate, but as your professor I have access to basic contact information for all my students, including cell phones, e-mail addresses, and…" as Edward speaks, I hear a knock on my door. Before I think about the fact that I am standing there, in a robe and towel, with my glasses and not a stitch of makeup, I open the door. I am still holding the cell phone to my ear.

"…address." Edward is standing there in front of me, with a bag of what appears to be takeout, still holding his cell phone to his ear as well. Without thinking, I slam the door back in his face and run inside.

"Bella? Are you still there? I am so sorry for intruding. I will leave you alone. I'll leave the food on your doorstep." Edward sounds defeated, and I know that I really don't want him to leave. I just need a few minutes to regroup.

"Edward? It's okay. Don't leave. Can you just give me a few minutes to get dressed? I just got out of the shower," I say to Edward, trying to sound a lot calmer than I feel.

"How is Sampson doing? Maybe while you are getting ready, I could take him out for a walk? It may do him some good to get some fresh air, and it would give you a few minutes to yourself," Edward says, which sounds like a much better idea than him sitting in his car until I'm done getting ready.

"That sounds like a great plan, Edward. Give me one minute to get Sampson ready." I grab Sampson's leash and harness and get him ready for a walk. When he's ready to go, I open the door and hand Edward the leash. "Just try to make sure he doesn't get into anything, and let me know if he is acting peculiar in any way."

"No problem, Bella. We'll be back in about twenty minutes. Do you want to bring the food inside?" Edward hands me the bag of food. I can see the grease seeping through the brown paper bag and realize that he went to Primanti's to pick up sandwiches. I watch Edward and Sampson walk down the street.

When they're out of sight, I realize that I need to quickly make myself presentable. I grab a pair of jeans and a long sleeved tee and matching socks, hoping I can look like I'm not trying too hard to be put together. I put some lipstick on and remove the shine from my nose with a little powder. There's no way I will put any makeup around my eyes, given the irritation I already have. I comb my wet hair and pull it into a loose ponytail, hoping that I don't look too plain. I dab a little perfume on my wrists and neck and decide this is all the better it will get today.

My heart is pounding in my chest at the thought of Edward inside my house. I can feel butterflies in my stomach imagining him researching my contact information to find out my phone number and address. It's like I have my own private stalker, and instead of being disgusted I am excited. What is wrong with me?

I open the bag of sandwiches and look inside. I hate to hurt Edward's feelings, but Primanti's is the kind of food that you eat "in the moment" – it's not something that does well with reheating. I may just have to whip something up or order a pizza.

I look out the window and I can see Edward and Sampson walking back towards the house. Sampson is looking up at Edward and wagging his tail. Edward is smiling and looks almost carefree. I take a deep breath and open the door for them. It's been an unexpected morning, and it's shaping up to be a more promising afternoon.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I can't believe how many of you have taken the time to review – it is so appreciated! It's nice to know that many of you are enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it.

My musical inspiration for this chapter is "Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons. I imagine Edward playing it on his way over to see Bella after her awful morning. Enjoy!

EPOV

After reading Bella's e-mail, my mind starts to create images of her waking up late in bed with the air guitar player from last night, laughing at me as she conjures up this story about her dog. But as quickly as the thought flashes through my head, I remember the look in her eyes of sheer mortification when he was "performing" for her. I can't imagine that any amount of alcohol would have made that tolerable.

Regardless of whether she is lying or not, I can't help feeling extremely disappointed that I won't be seeing Bella today. Ever since our original study session together over pancakes a few weeks ago, I have been planning to offer my help studying for the midterm.

Although we both agreed during that first study session that we couldn't pursue a friendship as long as she was my student, I find myself thinking about Bella more often than I want to admit. Her finance course is the highlight of my week because I know I'll have the opportunity to see her. I can always tell when she's struggling with a concept, because she wrinkles her eyes and looks to her right, up at the ceiling, almost as if the answer to the question is written there for her. When another student asks a question, I can tell by her expression whether or not she believes it's valid, and more often than not I'll catch an eye roll from her if a student asks something obvious.

Friday afternoon, when Jasper called to see if I wanted to get a drink, I was about to decline until I heard where he was going. Maybe if I made an appearance at Rivertowne I'd see Bella there? I got the impression that it wasn't unusual for her to go there at the end of the week.

I didn't realize how much I was pining for her, however, until I watched the Angus Young wannabe as he sang and danced around her. She didn't appear to be enjoying it, but I realized that I don't even know if she is dating anyone, or if she wants to be dating someone now. There are so many details about Bella that I know nothing about. I decided that if this childish giant could try to woo her with music, I could try as well. So I scanned through the song selection and tried to find one that could define how I was feeling at that moment. Coldplay's "The Scientist" is not a traditional bar song by any stretch of the imagination, so I didn't know how she would react when she heard it. But as soon as the haunting melody began to play, I watched Bella's eyes close and her lips move along with the music, as though she was savoring it. I remembered how soft her lips were when I kissed her. I watched the tension melt away from her as she enjoyed the song. And I realized, in that moment, that it was too late for me. She'd already captured me under her spell, and she didn't even know it.

Turning my attention away from last night, I start to play the piano in frustration. As I am losing myself in Rachmaninoff, I realize that if what Bella told me was true, she will be home all day with her dog Sampson. What if I surprised her and brought lunch to her? We could even have a study session and she wouldn't lose her entire day. A plan starts to formulate in my head as I consider the details.

Within an hour I am driving to her house, her address compliments of Carnegie Mellon, with a pair of large, greasy sandwiches topped with French fries and coleslaw. I can't imagine Bella eating this mammoth sandwich, but maybe this is one of the many facts I've yet to learn about her.

When she opens the door in her bathrobe and glasses, I have the strangest sense of relief. She didn't lie to me! Her dog actually IS sick. That relief is quickly followed with guilt for actually being glad that she has been cleaning up dog vomit all morning. So, I offer to take Sampson on a walk around her neighborhood while she gets dressed. Sampson is a happy fellow, stopping to sniff a few trees and bushes along the way. I make sure he doesn't eat anything along the way that may cause him to be sick again.

When we return to the house, Bella is dressed casually in jeans and a tee shirt. Her hair is still wet and hanging loosely in a ponytail. And she's wearing a pair of dark-framed glasses.

Bella, in her ponytail and glasses, might be the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

"So, Edward, did you have your heart set on Primanti's? I don't know that these sandwiches have held up very well in transit," Bella says as she holds open the contents of the bag. It looks like a greasy, sticky mess with coleslaw everywhere. I can't believe that people eat this food sober.

"I think I can wait to experience this particular delicacy. Would you like me to go out and get something else?" I consider offering to take her somewhere but I'm guessing she doesn't want to leave Sampson.

"Actually, what if I made us a light lunch now, and we can get takeout later if we're hungry? I thought maybe I'd make some grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup." Bella looks at me hopefully. Did I just get invited for lunch AND dinner? I feel my stomach twist a bit with excitement.

"Grilled cheese and soup sounds wonderful. It reminds me of being a kid again. How can I help?" I ask.

Bella gives me some plates, bowls, and utensils and has me set the table. I notice her iPod is on a docking station and decide to turn it on and see what she's listening to. I hear the familiar haunting melody of "The Scientist" wafting from the speakers.

"So, you hack into CMU to get my address and phone number, and now you're turning on my iPod and snooping through my music?" Bella asks in an exasperated tone. I can see her cheeks are beginning to flush and I wonder if she's embarrassed that I caught her listening to the song I played last night. I realize that she must think I'm some sort of a stalker and begin to mutter an apology.

"I apologize if this has been inappropriate, Bella. I didn't mean any harm, and I can leave if I have made you uncomfortable." I begin to move towards the door when I feel her hand on my forearm. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, and my heart begins to thud as I turn to face her.

"No, it's okay. I guess I didn't want you knowing that I was playing "The Scientist" this morning. It's no coincidence, you know." She looks up at me rather shyly, her big brown eyes exaggerated by the glasses. I swallow forcibly and feel a twinge in my groin as I gently move away from her, walking back to her iPod to see the next song on her playlist. I see that she has a rather eclectic selection of music, including what appears to be every recording that Dave Matthews Band has ever made. I select "Two Step" as Bella and I sit down and eat our grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. It reminds me of the night at the bar when I kissed her.

During lunch I ask Bella all the questions I can think of to learn more about her. Her favorite color is green, although she refuses to say why. She doesn't eat Primanti's food regularly, but feels it is a Pittsburgh tradition that I must experience. She loves to travel and dreams about moving abroad at some point with her job. And she hates Finance.

"What do you mean, you hate Finance? You've only been exposed to it for half a semester, Bella." I put my hand over my heart, feigning injury.

"I think it's just so dry for me, so black and white. I like to live in a world where there are shades of gray, neither right nor wrong, depending on the way you look at it." Bella dips the corner of her sandwich in her soup as she explains.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't work for Enron a few years ago. You may have made an excellent financial analyst. They were all about "the gray"." I hear her snicker as she's chewing the final bites of her sandwich.

After we clear away the plates, we get the books out and start reviewing for the midterm. I am careful not to focus too closely on any one topic and to just stick with a general review of the materials. I want her to do well, but I don't want to give her an unfair advantage against the other students. When we finish the review, I notice that it's almost four-thirty in the afternoon. As Bella gets up to check on Sampson, I begin to wonder if her offer for dinner still stands, since it is so early. I really hope that it does.

"So, Sampson seems to have recovered from his episode this morning, but I can't say that I'm comfortable leaving him alone tonight. If you want, we could order some food in a little while and just relax? Maybe watch a movie and drink some wine?" Bella fidgets with the sleeve of her tee shirt, which I have learned is one of the telltale signs that she's nervous.

"That sounds nice, Bella, but dinner will be my treat." I notice that a wild lock of hair has worked its way out of her ponytail, and without thinking I tuck the strand behind her ear. I see her cheeks filling with color and realize that her cheeks are not the only place that blood is rushing right now at this moment. "Excuse me, but may I use your bathroom?"

Bella points me in the direction of the bathroom and I quietly close the door. I am painfully hard, to the point where I may lose it in my pants. I will myself to calm down, but with no avail. How damn ironic is it that the thirty-two year old virgin who can't hold an erection for sex can't get it to go down now? I splash some cold water on my face, thinking about my colleagues at Stanford and their reaction to me after they learned about my secret. I immediately start to shrink again.

When I come out of the bathroom, I notice that Bella has selected two bottles of wine, one red and one white, for my inspection. I choose the red, a nice Red Zinfandel from Sonoma, and she uncorks it and pours us each a glass. She scrolls through the "On Demand" selection on her cable programming, and we select "Invictus" with Matt Damon and Morgan Freeman.

About halfway through the movie, I feel something pressing on my shoulder. Bella is nodding to sleep peacefully, with her head shifting to rest on my arm. I grab her empty wine glass and put it on the coffee table along with my own. Careful not to wake her, I press my nose close to her head and smell her hair. She still smells like fresh shampoo from her shower. I feel her nuzzle her face further into my shoulder as she exhales a deep breath.

For a moment, I decide to pretend that I'm normal. Bella is my girlfriend and we're spending a quiet Saturday afternoon cuddled on the couch watching movies. So wrapped up in my own fantasy, I feel my eyes getting heavier as I press my own head against hers, allowing myself to drift peacefully to sleep as well.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Wow, thank you so much for all of the reviews and support! Special thanks to xrxdanixrx for her continued help! Check out her newest story "My Perfect Mr. Imperfect".

BPOV

I hear a muffled sound next to me as I start to wake up. I open my eyes slowly and take in the scene around me. I need to adjust my glasses since they shifted during my nap.

I can see the closing credits of a movie, presumably 'Invictus', playing across the screen. I must have fallen asleep soon after it began because I don't remember much more than the first few scenes. I guess a glass of wine wasn't the best idea after a day of studying and housecleaning.

I feel my face pressed against something warm and I can feel an arm tightening around my shoulders. I look up and see Edward's head drooping over mine. His arm is wrapped around me, and he appears to be mumbling in his sleep. I see him flinch instinctively as I try to make out what he is saying.

"No…please. No, no, this isn't right, please stop." Edward starts to shake his head, curling his legs closer to his chest. I am not sure whether or not to wake him when Sampson, hearing Edward's moans, begins to bark in the other room. In a panic, I close my eyes, feigning sleep, so I don't have to explain what I am hearing to Edward.

Edward gasps and I can feel his body tighten, waking from whatever dream he was having. I feel him push the hair away from my forehead and I say a silent prayer that my blush will not give me away.

Sampson walks into the room and I can feel him nudging against us, hoping to awaken one of us so he can go outside. Just as I am about to "wake up", Edward carefully shifts my body to the other side of the couch and grabs the leash, getting up to take Sampson outside into the backyard. I feel an ache in my chest at the sweetness of his gesture.

Since Edward is right outside of the window, I decide to exaggerate my motions so he can see that I'm waking up. I am stretching my arms over my head when Sampson bounds through the door, attacking me with kisses. I look up and see Edward looking tentatively at me as he shuts the door and locks it.

"Wow, 'Invictus' must have been riveting. I barely remember ten minutes of it," I say, smiling. "If you want, we could try watching it again."

"Actually, Bella, I should probably go. Sampson seems to be fine now, so you can probably still have an evening out if you wanted." I can see he has shifted into his Professor mode, masking any of the emotions he showed earlier today. I feel my heart sink. I thought that today we made some progress, but it appears that we're back to square one.

Tonight, I don't have the energy to try and convince Edward to stay, but I'm not going to let him make this about me. If he wants to leave, he needs to own that it is his decision.

"Edward, I already told you earlier that we could order in for dinner tonight. I obviously don't have other plans, nor do I want them. But I understand that you may have better things to be doing, so thanks again for coming over today and helping me study." I grab the wine glasses off the coffee table and walk into the kitchen.

As I am rinsing the glasses, I can feel Edward's eyes boring into the back of my head. "Bella, I'm no good at this. I know that I'm sending you conflicting messages, but it's only because I really don't want to complicate your life right now. Spending the day with you has only made it more clear to me what a great girl you are. I don't want to see you get hurt."

I can feel myself fuming. Had Edward just walked out of the apartment without that final speech, I would have been disappointed, but it wouldn't have ruined the rest of my weekend. Now, I'm just pissed. Who the hell does he think he is? I don't have time for this anymore, regardless of the consequences. I storm over to where he is standing.

"Seriously, Edward? What the hell is your problem? You go out of your way to see me today, finding my address, bringing me lunch, walking my dog! And now you pull this 'I don't want you to get hurt' crap? I'm not a young, impressionable girl. I am a grown woman! And the last time I checked, we were talking about ordering dinner, not having wild, passionate sex, or committing our lives to each other! You can cut the bullshit. If you don't want to spend time with me socially, you don't have to! Just say so! Don't flatter yourself into thinking that I'll fall apart!"

Edward's jaw drops open as he stares at me, seemingly shocked by my comments. He steps forward until his face is just inches from my own, and I can't tell if he wants to kiss me or slap me across my face.

"Bella, I wish that I could make you understand. It's really not you, regardless of how cliché that sounds. Today has been the best day I have had in a long time. And I don't even know that I care anymore that you're my student because it's just another few months. But I just don't have anything to offer you, as much as I'd like to try." His eyes are boring into mine, pleading with me to understand.

"You have nothing to offer me? Are you married?" I ask, trying to understand his meaning.

"No."

"Gay?" I seriously doubt this after our kiss, but figure it's worth asking.

"No."

"Fugitive on the run from the law?"

"Bella, this isn't a guessing game." Edward says, shaking his head.

"Fair enough, but I just don't get it. All of your actions are telling me that you enjoy my company. So I will ask you again, why is this so complicated? Can't we just be friends? I'm not looking for you to sign your life away in blood or anything." Carefully, I reach out and put my hand on his forearm. I can feel him tense under my touch, but he doesn't pull away. I continue looking into his eyes, trying to convince him to make me understand.

"Bella, if we are friends, I'll feel dishonest. For me, I'll always wish it was more. But realistically, I'll never be able to give you more than friendship." Edward reaches down to touch my cheek, but stops in midair.

"Edward, this is truly maddening. I don't understand you at all. What do you need from me? Some sort of sign to show you that I am interested in you? How does this work for you?"

Before he can protest, I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his. At first, he doesn't respond to the kiss, and keeps his arms neutral at his side, but he doesn't pull away from it either. So I launch my body at him, pressing myself against him and grasping his hair in my hands, throwing everything I have into the kiss. I figure that this might be my last chance to show him how I feel, so I might as well make the best of it.

Suddenly I feel Edward's hands grasp my shoulders and pull me away. He looks at me intensely, his eyes green and wild. I take a deep breath and steel myself for the disappointment and humiliation that is inevitable when he walks out the door.

But Edward surprises me by pulling me back into his arms and kissing me feverishly. There is a tinge of desperation in his kiss and I know that he also feels a sense of finality in it. He's holding me so closely that it is almost painful. I allow myself to melt into him, running my fingers back through his hair and stroking the back of his neck, encouraging him to continue.

After a few minutes, Edward ends the kiss, still holding me in a tight hug. I know that he's preparing to say goodbye to me, but I don't want him to go. I place a soft kiss on his jaw. I hear him sigh in what I hope is contentment.

"Edward, let's order some food and just hang out here. You don't have to leave. Just follow your instincts on this, don't overthink it."

Edward looks at me with a sad, gentle smile. "Bella, there's something that I need to tell you. Once you know, I will completely understand if you want me to leave. When I told you before that I don't have anything to offer you, it's not that I'm married, or gay, or anything else that you might think. I have a physical problem that prevents me from being intimate with a woman. I feel it's only right that I set your expectations that although I enjoy spending time with you, there is a limit to the extent of our relationship."

"What do you mean, Edward?" My mind starts to race with worry, wondering what disease he may be carrying.

Edward puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me back so that he can look directly into my eyes.

"Bella, I'm impotent. "


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I also don't own Dave Matthews, but will shamelessly plug his lyrics as much as I can.

Sorry for the delay everyone. Real life really kicked me in the ass these past few weeks with family sickness, funerals, and an international relocation! I am hoping to post again ni the next few days, but it might be a week or so after that. Please stay with me!

Thanks to my Twilighted Beta xrxdanixrx for her awesome skills.

_Previously in Chapter 14:_

_Edward looks at me with a sad, gentle smile. "Bella, there's something that I need to tell you. Once you know, I will completely understand if you want me to leave. When I told you before that I don't have anything to offer you, it's not that I'm married, or gay, or anything else that you might think. I have a physical problem that prevents me from being intimate with a woman. I feel it's only right that I set your expectations that although I enjoy spending time with you, there is a limit to the extent of our relationship."_

"_What do you mean, Edward?" My mind starts to race with worry, wondering what disease he may be carrying._

_Edward puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me back so that he can look directly into my eyes._

"_Bella, I'm impotent. "_

BPOV

To say I am flabbergasted by this beautiful man in front of me would be the understatement of the century. I have known intuitively that he had some secret that he was hiding from me, but I never expected this man, who appears to be the picture of health, to be impotent. I have so many questions that I want to ask him, but my instincts tell me that my reaction over the next few minutes will define whether or not there is any "we" in our future, so I tread carefully.

My mind races as I try to think of the appropriate response to Edward's admission. I am afraid to ask him too many questions for fear that I will scare him away. So I decide that actions speak louder than words, and I do the only thing that makes sense at this moment.

I hug him.

At first, it is awkward as I reach my arms around him and hold him tightly. He stands very still, arms at his sides, not moving or responding to my touch. But once he realizes I am not going to say or do anything else, I feel his arms tentatively wrap around me until he is embracing me just as fiercely.

I'm not sure how long we are standing there, but I start to feel Sampson's nose gently nudging at my legs, trying to worm his head between us to get in on the hugging action. I look at Edward ruefully as I reach down to scratch Sampson's ear.

"It looks like someone might be a little jealous," I say to Edward as I bend down to give Sampson a little love. His tail is whacking impatiently against the cupboard doors, making the kitchen seem suddenly smaller than it was just a few minutes ago.

"Sampson has no reason to be jealous. There are no threats here." I can hear an edge of bitterness in his voice. Since he has reopened the topic, I decide to see if I can find out a bit more information. I walk back over to the sink where our wine glasses are drying and motion to him if he wants a refill. I breathe a sigh of relief when he nods.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, filling our wine glasses with a generous pour.

Edward takes a deep breath and I can see that he is putting up his wall before he answers. "I am sure you have a lot of questions, so let's see if I can spare you the trouble of asking them. Yes, all of my equipment is still intact. No, I did not have a horrible accident that rendered me impotent. Yes, I have been examined and no, there is no medical reason for my conditions. It's all up here," Edward says, tapping his head emphatically.

I hand Edward his glass of wine and take a sip of my own, trying to use the time to collect my thoughts. Finally, after the silence is nearly deafening, I realize that he's done his best to push me away, and I have heard nothing at all that has deterred me. I open one of my drawers and pull out a handful of take-out menus.

"Do you want to pick something or do you want me to surprise you?" I ask. Edward looks at me as though I have just sprouted horns.

"That's all you've got to say to me? Do I want to pick out a place for take-out? I pour my fucking heart out to you, and you're asking me about take-out?" Edward runs his fingers through his hair angrily, and although I feel my stomach doing somersaults, I stay with my original plan.

"Well, Edward, I appreciate you sharing this, but frankly, it doesn't matter at all to me. It doesn't change anything. I like you, and I think that the feeling is mutual. I would like to get to know you better. If you share my feelings, this doesn't have to be any more complicated than that."

It is now Edward's turn to sip his wine thoughtfully. "So Bella, are you telling me that you would be in a serious relationship with someone who could never make love to you? That you would marry a man that could not naturally give you children? I know that right now it may seem inconsequential, but these are things that you will eventually want, Bella, things that I can't give to you."

For the second time tonight, I can feel myself starting to seethe. "Edward, please don't take this the wrong way, but seriously? Not every first date leads to marriage and children. I appreciate that you have extenuating circumstances and you want to make sure I know what I'm getting into, but I am telling you that it changes nothing. Let's not worry about all of this romance stuff. Let's just be friends and get to know each other. Frankly, I am starting to wonder if you're using this as a way to let me down easy. So if you're not interested in what I have to offer, just say the word and we can move on."

Edward walks up to me and puts his hand on my face, stroking my cheek. He kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear. "I'm interested". I feel a shiver run involuntarily down my spine and hope that he didn't notice. But the half smile he offers when he steps away leads me to believe that he did.

As I sit down in class, I can feel my stomach churning as I prepare to take my midterm exam in Finance. After my study session on Saturday, I spent a few hours Sunday reviewing the materials again, and I feel that there is no more that I could have done to prepare. I fidget nervously waiting for Edward to arrive.

Ten minutes before class begins, Edward strides into the room with a box full of test materials. Typically a teaching assistant would administer the exam, but Edward does not have any assistants for his class so he's here, dressed casually in jeans and a button down shirt, looking delicious as ever. I mentally chastise myself for having these types of thoughts. Edward and I are firmly in the "friend zone" based on our conversation Saturday.

I think about what Edward told me about his impotency problem and wonder what could possibly be the reason. He said there was nothing medically wrong with him, but I can't help but wonder if he's examined all options. I make a mental note to do some research this week to see if I can find anything.

Edward passes out the tests, handing each of us our test personally. When he hands me my test, I notice there is a sticky note poking out from the second page of mine. I arch my eyebrow at him quizzically and he responds with a wink.

"Alright, I think that everyone has an exam now. You may now begin. You will have exactly two hours to complete the exam. Good luck!"

I open up my test, more interested to see what is on the sticky note than the exam itself. I peel away the note and tuck it close to myself, making sure that no one else can see my private message from the Professor. I carefully look to see what Edward has written to me.

_Bella,_

_Are you looking for answers, to questions under the stars?_

_If along the way you are growing weary, you can rest with me until a brighter day._

_EAC_

I try to keep my cheeks from exploding with a smile. Edward found what might be the perfect Dave Matthews Band lyrics for this moment and shared them with me. I carefully look up to see Edward staring intently at me. This time, it's my turn to wink at him.

Feeling a rush of adrenaline, I plow into my test. Overall, I feel well prepared as I skim through the questions, and finish with thirty minutes to spare. I turn in my test to Edward and try not to make any eye contact with him as I walk out of the room. I didn't think that drooling and blushing would be a normal student reaction to handing in an exam.

After driving home, I take Sampson on a brief walk and decide to settle in early to relax after taking the exam. I check my Blackberry and see that I have a message from Edward.

TO:

FROM:

SUBJECT: Exam

_Bella,_

_I just wanted to see if you're upset with me, and apologize if you are. It felt like you couldn't even look at me as you left class. I hope you weren't upset that I gave you that note. I thought you may enjoy getting a little smile before the exam. If I have overstepped any boundaries, accept my apologies. _

_Best,_

_Edward_

I decide to write a response before I go to sleep so he knows that I am not upset. I am feeling a little bit brazen so I decide to flirt a little bit. Friend zone be damned!

TO:

FROM:

SUBJECT: RE: Exam

_Edward, _

_I most certainly am not upset with you. I avoided eye contact with you because I didn't want to make any of the other students jealous if I launched myself at you after the exam. Thank you for the note; it was really sweet of you. I didn't realize you were a DMB fan. _

_Thanks again for studying with me on Saturday. I hope that my grade reflects the amount of preparation for the exam._

_Have a good night,_

_Bella_

I take Sampson out one last time before bed and then get my pajamas on. I can't resist checking my phone to see if Edward responded. He didn't disappoint.

TO:

FROM:

SUBJECT: RE: Exam

_Bella,_

"_I didn't want to make any of the other students jealous if I launched myself at you after the exam." Launch yourself? Hmm…my intellectual curiosity is getting the best of me tonight. I may want a demonstration of this the next time we get together._

_Speaking of which, would you like to have dinner this week? Maybe we could try going out this time?_

_Sweet dreams,_

_Edward_

Edward wants a demonstration? I may have to oblige, in the name of intellectual curiosity, of course.


End file.
